11 December 2007

The huge crew of this Billy Budd just about squeezed on to the Barbican stage with the help of a bit of sophisticated musical chairs. With every elbow tightly choreographed, there wasn't room to even think about any staging. Just a hint of costuming - the officers sported full frack and the seamen all-black - though the significance of Gidon Saks's lurex tee and winklepickers is anybody's guess.

The sounds of the sea were gloriously evoked by Daniel Harding and the LSO. Here Britten brings symphonic-scale resources to a minutely-embroidered chamber orchestration. Crashing waves, rolling shanties, the thunder of battle exploded into life, sometimes ear-splittingly so. fff-ing loud does seem to be Harding's default volume, but here it seemed utterly appropriate, wrong-but-right, and never drowned the details. Nor the singers -- a few odd moments aside, Harding cleared a generous path for them.

This was the first (or the second if you count an identical performance two nights earlier) of a series of Barbican concerts fronted by Ian Bostridge, and it was also his first outing as Captain Vere. Vere's agonising choice between personal morality and public duty was laid out painfully and vividly, but his public face was less clearly sketched. Indeed, Bostridge seemed completely disinterested in presenting any kind of external characterisation, as if dissection was an adequate substitute for portraiture. But, dramatic considerations aside, his singing was flawless, lyrical, at times heartstoppingly beautiful.

Maybe I've been spoiled by recollections of Simon Keenlyside tackling Billy Budd, but I found Nathan Gunn was a little colourless in the title role, with more charm than real charisma. He improved as the night went on though, and managed in his dawn song (aided by a haunting piccolo solo) to be truly touching and not simply sentimental.

Gidon Saks, the burly, scary Claggart was imposing of voice and demeanour, convincing from head to toe. Brooding malevolence was tempered with flashes of the vulnerability that drives his persecution of Billy. It was a commanding performance, hinting that what lay inside Claggart was too monstrous to contemplate. Absolute perfection.

And the many smaller roles were more than adequately filled. Matthew Best as Dansker, Andrew Kennedy as Novice, Andrew Tortise as Squeak and Alasdair Elliot as Red Whiskers were all particularly impressive, but really, there were no disappointments amongst the soloists at all.

The London Symphony Chorus sailed on somewhat rougher seas, making a splendid job of many of their moments, especially the big shanties, but falling apart rather here and there. I had the impression a couple more rehearsals might have helped.

The whole thing was recorded for future release by EMI -- if they can edit out the first act coughfest it should be a remarkable recording.

A video with some background, including rehearsal footage and commentary from Ian Bostridge: